


Something Stupid

by BoStarsky



Series: Soft Bois [5]
Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff, Jimmy probably knows something is going on, M/M, a smidgeon of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 21:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16773343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoStarsky/pseuds/BoStarsky
Summary: The soft bois have a much needed conversation.





	Something Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> It seems I am in constant need of writing fluff these days, this time I’m getting over a car accident (I’m fine). For every bad thing I experience there’s nothing better than fluff to soothe the pain. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @BoStarsky

Sometimes Ron doesn’t really think before he speaks and sometimes he thinks too much, it’s put him in a few awkward situations over the years, but none so bad they couldn’t be fixed. Now Flip is staring at him looking like the proverbial deer. He hadn’t meant to say it now, not here where they’re lurking in the dark and listening in on Jimmy buying drugs. He’s been staring at Flip for the last ten minutes, watching the way passing cars light up his silhouette, how he chews on his lip between drags of his cigarette, the intent focus in his eyes. 

“I love you,” he whispers before his brain has time to register the words and stop him from making a fool of himself and hopes that maybe Flip didn’t hear. But he did. 

Flip’s head snaps up so fast his headphones are left behind, ending up resting awkwardly on his forehead in a tangle of black hair, “What?” Much to his credit he sounds calm. 

“I love you,” Ron repeats in a stronger voice, no going back now. 

“Are you serious?” Thank god Jimmy’s the only one being recorded, this is a conversation that would be difficult to explain. 

“I am,” he reaches out to straighten the headphones, giving him an unobstructed view of Flip’s wide eyes. “You don’t have to say it back, I just want you to know,” Should the worst case scenario happen he takes the opportunity to stroke Flip’s cheek for what might be the last time before pulling his hand back. 

There is a long minute where Flip is glancing back and forth between him and the sketchy bar, face blank and near unreadable in the darkness of the car. It gets to the point where Ron has almost resigned himself to this thing of theirs being over then he’s being offered a hand. Smiling with relief he tangles their fingers together, hands hidden from the outside world by the dash. 

“Move in with me?” Is the last thing he expected Flip to reply with, but he supposes in the grand scheme of things it’s not that strange, he’s been spending more and more time at Flip’s house lately. Enough so that some of his clothes have migrated over with him along with a selection of toiletries. 

The biggest concern is what other people will think, it’s bad enough for two grown men to shack up together, add the fact that one of them is black and they might just have a problem on their hands. Still this doesn’t change the fact that he wants to. It’s all too easy to imagine a life where he can listen to Flip baby talk Itsy when he thinks no one can hear, wake up to the smell of burnt toast fresh from the forever faulty toaster, or even just being able to oogle Flip’s bare chest every day when he’s still damp from the shower and browsing his never ending selection of plaid shirts. For the chance at something like that he’ll gladly field rude and invasive questions from their peers, not like he doesn’t do that already. 

It’s decided then, he won’t renew his lease come the new year. Starting 1975 he’ll have a man to come home to instead of an empty apartment. 

“Yes,” brown eyes widen in surprise at his agreement making him think Flip wasn’t expecting him to be positive about this. Maybe Flip’s question was just as much an accidental blurt as Ron’s confession. 

Right this moment he’d like nothing more than to kiss that dumbstruck look off of his man’s face, it’s making him look too cute for his own good. He’ll have to save it for later and settle for squeezing Flip’s hand in his lest they risk being seen. 

“Maybe I can finally do something about that wardrobe of yours,” Ron teases and Flip gives an impressive eye roll. The day he gets Flip to wear anything tight enough to show off that chest is the day pigs grow wings, there’s no hope, but teasing him is fun all the same. 

Just about that time Jimmy emerges from the dive bar he’s been loitering in for the last hour with a pocket full of cocaine and hopefully a clue of where to go next. He glances over at where they’re lurking in Flip’s truck outside the halo of a street lamp. Ron’s hand is left cold before Jimmy has turned his head fully. 

“See you knuckleheads back at the station,” he mutters while jogging across the street to his own car, “and bring some food, will ya? I’m starving,”

Flip’s sudden distance leaves him thinking all the way through their food run and into the station where he has to put on a mask. Does Flip really want him to move in? The fact that Flip has never told him no puts doubt in his mind coupled with fear of this being more one sided than he thought. He can understand not being ready for some things, but Flip’s lack of emotional communication when sober makes things difficult to gauge correctly. 

They’ve been doing this since last winter when he caught Flip standing under the mistletoe hanging in his kitchen doorway. Big eyed and pleased with their work on the Christmas tree Flip has just been standing there in the glow of the coloured lights, a bottle of Coors in his hand, and looking more beautiful than Ron had ever seen him. He saw an opportunity and took it figuring he could blame the beer for where he choose to place his mistletoe kiss should things go sideways. It didn’t.

Flip had looked at him then, something like fear in his eyes, blushing bright red and seemingly searching for something to say. All Ron really noticed was how soft Flip’s lips were and the fact that there wasn’t a huge fist coming for his face so he kissed him one more time for good measure. 

He got kissed back for his bold efforts and stopped waiting to get socked in the jaw. He waited an entire week before going back for more, Flip continued not to pummel him into the ground so Ron continued kissing him whenever he could get away with it. 

The rest is what led them here, led Ron to believe this was a mostly mutual thing, but now he has to wonder. He didn’t expect Flip to reply in kind, knew that in his head Flip isn’t ready to acknowledge that kind of commitment, now he hopes Flip asking him to move in wasn’t some knee jerk reaction to make Ron happy. 

A conversation needs to happen before anything else. It won’t be easy, but somehow he has to pry open a gap in Flip’s defences so they don’t end up doing something they’ll both regret in the long run. 

The day finally over he corners Flip in the parking lot to bum a ride home studiously ignoring where they are and standing way closer than he should while Flip finishes his cigarette. He might not look like a genius, but Flip is a lot smarter than he lets on, the way he glances at Ron in the near dark says he knows what’s coming. He takes it without protest, even goes so far as detouring so they’ll have a longer drive to work things out. 

“You really want to do this?” Flip keeps shifting his gaze between Ron and the road, his free hand fiddling with an unlit cigarette. “It’s difficult to tell when you won’t talk before you forget who you are,” his comment earns him a wry smile. 

A heavy sigh cuts through the cab, the soft scratch of Flip running the back of his hand under his chin, “I want this, and…,” he takes a deep breath, they lock eyes while standing still at a red light. “I do too,” a bright sparkling light finds its way into Ron’s chest filling up that growing cavity and chasing away his doubt. “I just can’t say it, not yet.”

Being scared is something he can understand, he doesn’t blame Flip for it, he never could. All he can do is keep being patient and know that Flip does want this thing they have. 

The road is empty at this hour, they’re the only people around, it almost feels like the rest of the world up and vanished. It feels good to slide himself across the bench until he’s flush against Flip’s side, it feels even better mumbling “I love you, baby,” into an adorably oversized ear and know that even if Flip won’t say it out loud he feels the same way.

**Author's Note:**

> Ps: do let us know if there are things you’d like to see the soft bois do.


End file.
